No, I Am Not as Others Are
by BlueCanto
Summary: A journey can be made even in the depth of sleep.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Not for profit. I do not own _Rizzoli & Isles_ or any of its characters.

No, I Am Not as Others Are

By

BlueCanto

The smooth slink of Jane's natural stride was disrupted by the rubble beneath her feet. She moved slowly as she navigated through the dusty haze, squinting and blinking furiously as she tried, unsuccessfully, to force her eyes to adjust to the gloom of her surroundings. With her arms extended, she clawed the air, desperate to find something or someone. Jane paused momentarily confused. She shook her head and a jumble of dark curls slung free from the band at the nape of her neck. Where was she and why was she alone? Jane couldn't remember. She could hear the rubble shifting and crumbling all around her. She shook her head again. A sort of dust was collecting itself in patches on the surface of her skin, in the tresses of her hair, the moist flesh inside her nose and exposed mud brown pools of her eyes. Jane scrunched her nose; there was a persistent smell that shifted with the breeze that she couldn't quite identify. She suppressed a sneeze as she moved further into the darkness, where the air was warm and grew warmer still.

Jane stopped abruptly and closed her eyes when a swirl of gritty air forced itself against her. For a few moments she stood rooted as she waited for the air to still. When she opened her eyes, she immediately looked to her left. There was something fixed far in the distance. It was a faint glow that broke through the gloom and gave her hope, a destination, and a goal.

Jane wheezed and released a shallow cough. Her breath quickened as she began to sweat profusely. It was hot, but Jane didn't care. She was mesmerized by the light, so captivated by its irregular flickers and how it shone brightly at first, withered, and grew back again, brighter than before. That was where Jane wanted to go. She needed to go to the light. And although Jane moved lethargically, she didn't despair. Jane knew that she could reach her goal, she would always reach her goal, and she would reach the light.

Something twisted and turned inside Jane's mind and a surge gathered in her chest and abdomen, and then spread throughout her body. Suddenly she found herself moving in a swift surefooted jog. That is, until she misstepped and fell into a rough embrace that left her scraped and bruised. Momentarily shocked, Jane's mind wandered. She marveled at the wet substance on the insides of her hands, the hands that broke the majority of her fall. She could feel pain. Curious, Jane sniffed her hands. The smell was familiar. Her tongue darted out impulsively. It was bitter. It was blood. Vertigo and a rush of fatigue overcame Jane and her eyes fluttered. The heat was unbearable. Jane ignored the many sensations that were overwhelming her and looked forward, into the light. She was much closer now. She needed to move.

Jane pushed herself up just enough to climb over all that was rough and tangled beneath her. She was almost there. The gloom of her surroundings began to brighten into a dull gray. Shadows began to dance playfully before her eyes. The gritty air that she felt before was now almost visible. Odd shaped silhouettes littered the air and floated to and fro. The rough and tangle beneath her began to emerge from the darkness and take shape as well. Jane could see now how it spread and weaved along the ground, half hidden under large slabs of what appeared to be earth and stone. There was a new sound that accompanied the shifting and crumbling, a strange cacophony, or a sort of roar that occasionally popped and whistled in low and high pitches.

The roar grew louder. Jane could hear and see a lot more than she did just moments before. And when she finally arrived, Jane was blinded by the light. She shielded her eyes as she slowly stood. The heat engulfed her and her breath hitched. She was shaken by and in awe of the illumination before her, of the amber glow, the large breeze blown flits of scarlet and the melodic sway of two closely twined trees aflame.

Jane felt her legs collapse, she felt her arms slacken, she felt all the fervor and excitements leave her body. Indeed, she had arrived. Jane could almost hear someone's laughter over the roar of the flame. When she realized that it was her own laughter, Jane froze completely, uttered a breathy curse, and fell flat on her back, knocking a small amount of wind from her body. Jane didn't know what to do, so she closed her eyes—defeated.

The air shifted and brought a welcome cool breeze; as well as, a sorrowful whisper that echoed above the roar. "I won't let you give up, Maura—never!"

Jane's eyes flew open. She found that she couldn't move her arms and legs, so she cried out, "Who's there?"

"I know you can hear me…"

The voice was lovely and familiar. Jane's vocal chords began to tighten and enflame. It was difficult to speak but she managed a strained shout, "Where are you? I know you. Why aren't you here with me?!"

"I'm right here."

There was an audible sigh that seemed to lessen the flames. A dark, inky hole opened before Jane's eyes and she could see what looked like partial legs and hooves. When it fully emerged, it was a massive form. It was the distorted figure of woman astride a dark horse.


	2. Chapter 2

Jane mused: she had a memory from her youth of a rider on a horse. That memory was now akin to an etching on a soft copper plate. All the fine details that were initially whole and beautiful, that were occasionally printed on the forefront of her mind, became a little altered, and a little less, until all its fineness was worn to virtually nothing. Jane doubted the veracity of such an old, fragmented memory that could so easily be embellished. A part of Jane knew that she rode horses in her youth; however, another part knew that she wouldn't have had the chance. Softly she muttered, "_if only memories could be etched in some stronger metal_…"

Jane frowned and took in small, slow breaths. She felt lost, confused, and drained of energy. Her eyes grew heavy and she felt as though she was being lulled to sleep by the sound of the flames. Jane tried to convince herself to keep her eyes open, but she began to realize that if she did close her eyes, just for little bit, maybe she could preserve something of herself. She was slipping away; she was sure.

An unexpected lengthy neigh and the loud stomp of angry hooves broke the languid ease that Jane had found herself sliding into. With her attention now captured, Jane wondered how she was ever distracted in the first place. She slightly opened her mouth only to realize that she was parched. It was excruciatingly hot.

Jane shifted her eyes to the right and a shudder racked her body. She could see the horse and rider begin to approach her. Fear crawled under Jane's skin before it arrested her lungs and fused her bones. If she thought that she could move from her position on the ground before, she knew that she couldn't now. Jane was frozen in place like a rabbit hiding from a hawk in the middle of a shrubless prairie with short grass. There was nowhere to hide, but if she stayed still, perhaps all threats would pass her by.

The sweat from Jane's brow trickled into her eyes and caused them to sting. She blinked furiously before settling into an unfocused squint that made her feel as if she were looking through a bitter and blurred glass. As the pain subsided, Jane discovered that there was a fascinating wrongness about the figures. They had a natural, yet fluctuating duality. At one moment they were tangible and intangible, malevolent and benevolent, unfamiliar and very familiar. They were a scale that teeter-tottered between something as banal as the struggle between good and evil, and something that was converted to grayscale; except, in actuality consisted of too much black, too little gray, and the absence of white. They were everything that you could hope for and everything that you could dread. Any willing or unwilling association would ultimately lead to regrets. This horse, and this rider, alarmed and reassured Jane.

The loud neigh of the horse once again startled Jane from her thoughts. She immediately focused her eyes on looming form. She was mesmerized. The horse was a massive and terrible sight to behold.

Its coat was blacker than the color of pitch, with a lackluster emerald sheen from the fire. Its long, tektite colored mane was wild with crimps and curls here, and stiff and soft strands there. Its eyes were like the viscous black fluid of tree tar and extremely large. They appeared to flicker a sickly, yellow ocher, or molten gold when it twisted its head. Its huge nostrils flared irritably and spewed great puffs of thick, black soot that materialized into tiny, deformed creatures. Each creature flitted about the air obtusely before they dissipated.

Jane thought it was strange that the horse was so anxious. What was there to be anxious about? Jane didn't know, but it danced in place amongst the crisp blackened leaves and shallow roots impatiently. The rider, the svelte shade, seemed unfazed by the movements of the horse. She sat eerily still, despite the swaying, rigid and in control. Her legs were fastened to the horse like a figurine cast from a single mold. The shade was featureless, and only recognizably feminine by the simple, long curved lines of her shape.

Still immobile and on her back, Jane tried her best to keep her eye on the woman as she swung herself from the horse the way sap burst from a tree. The shade dismounted so slowly that Jane felt as if she had blinked a million times before she heard two legs finally meet the ground with a soft crunch, followed by more crunching.

Jane squeezed her eyes shut. She knew that the shade was walking towards her—surveying her like a predator. Before she could assume the worst, Jane felt delightfully cool and feather light touches upon her cheeks, forehead, lips and hair. She shuddered and felt an instant chill spread and ripple throughout her body. "_Relief_," she thought. Somehow, a part of her fear ebbed and disappeared.

Jane's brow softened, and when she opened her eyes, she was taken aback. The face—mere inches from her own—was a kaleidoscope of color. It swelled, twisted, and finally burst into bits of color that almost created facial features: a nostril, an eyelid, an upper lip, and curiously both eyebrows. A moment later, the patterns began to blend into smooth, tanned skin, with two dark brown eyes, thin, dusty rose colored lips, long eyelashes, and thick, black brows.

Jane was delighted when she gazed upon the face of the woman before her. It looked like her face—no, Jane's face. Jane was before her with crescent shaped eyes and the softest of smiles upon her lips. Maura loved that rare smile.

_Maura? _

Like a phoenix bursting spontaneously into flames, or the last beautiful lament of a dying swan, the fire erupted in a flurry, and swiftly began to turn everything into dust.

She felt her skin shrivel, her heart race, and her tongue swell as everything began to rapidly burn. One last thought before then end and all that she could think was, _"Am I—?"_

The horse reared, neighed thrice, and the fire went out.


	3. Chapter 3

The shrill sound of her voice was foreign to her as she screamed and eliminated the whole of her breath. She was hysterical—she knew that. She wasn't surprised to find her body trembling.

As she sat up, she brought her legs to her chest, rested her head atop her knees, and tried to force as much air as she could into her lungs. She couldn't possibly tell where she was, it was still so dark. She tightened the grip on her legs as she realized that might still be there, that she might have burned, that she might be...she didn't want to think about that.

Maura lifted her head. It was too dark. She couldn't see anything, so she thought about the last thing she saw before everything burned. She saw Jane, she was sure of it. Perhaps Jane was still with her? Perhaps they burned together? The thought of Jane being beside her, no matter the circumstances, calmed Maura.

Maura sighed and released the tension from her body. She crossed her arms over her chest and was shocked to find damp clothes and damp skin. Suddenly, like a flower blooming spontaneously at the touches of spring, realization fostered itself and began to bloom in the depths of Maura's mind. Maura did know where she was. She was floating on a familiar soft cloud, a cloud made of silk, goose feathers and Egyptian cotton. A small smile began to touch the edges of her mouth. She could feel the sheets and the comforting warmth that they brought. Maura knew that she would be okay. Wouldn't she?

Maura sat and reassured herself by patting her sheets over and over until she was unexpectedly grabbed and shaken violently.

The lights came on.

"Jane," Maura said softly. "Please, stop shaking me."

"I wouldn't have had to shake you, Maura, if you hadn't gone all vaso-bagel. You scared me. What's going on?" Jane stroked Maura's arms a few times before she stopped, looked down at her hands, and rubbed her fingers together.

Confused Maura replied, "Vasovagal syncope. Jane, I assure you that wasn't the case. I do believe that I've just experienced a nightmare."

"A nightmare, Maur?" Jane confirmed as she lifted from the bed and collected new pajamas for Maura.

"Yes, I've had them before, mainly about chromobacterium violaceum, but this time, that wasn't the case. It was quite frightening and fascinating…I wasn't me, I was you, but I was me, as you, but you—"

Jane snorted as she threw the pajamas in front of Maura, "Okay. Let me get this straight…You had a dream that you were me, and you're calling that a nightmare? Well gee Maur, it's so nice to hear that being me is such a nightmare for you!" Jane made few overdramatic gestures with her hands and flopped onto her side of the bed.

"That wasn't the part that frightened me," Maura explained as she shifted away from Jane and walked towards the bathroom. "It was dark and there was a horse…"

"Wait. Stop. How about I just do for you, what you've done for me when, you know, I have those nightmares about—"

"About Hoyt?"

As Maura entered the bathroom, she could feel Jane rolling her eyes, "Yes, Maura, about Hoyt."

After a moment Maura emerged shaking her head, "Nightmares are unpleasant for everyone. They can evoke a variety of strong emotional responses. Did you know that although more children suffer from nightmares than adults, there have been studies that show between roughly two and eight percent of the adult population suffers from vivid nightmares? The negative emotions induced by nightmares can cause acute sleep deprivation, well, depending on frequency, and also due to the fact that—"

Maura was at the edge of the bed when Jane pulled her forward. "I don't care." She said. "I'm too tired for this. Just lay here and get hugged. It works. There's no need to talk about dark My Little Pony or your little fun facts."

Slightly dissatisfied, Maura wasn't able to completely relax into Jane's embrace. "Lie here…Nightmares mainly occur during rapid eye movement sleep."

Jane huffed, "You just had to finish, didn't you? Uh, you know, most people say REM, and most other people actually know what they're talking about."

Maura felt emboldened by Jane's retort and wanted to frustrate her a little. She pressed her lips into a tight smile as she twisted in Jane's arms and continued to twist. Despite Jane's somewhat uncharacteristic insensitivity about her emotional state after her nightmare, Maura still felt safe, comforted, fearless, and more importantly, not alone.

"God, come on, Maura, quit squirming around. You're worse than Jo Friday when she sneaks into my bed." Jane gave Maura a tight squeeze, "I know what you're doing, and I also know that you desperately need some sleep. We both do. Just relax and stop with the tossing and turning."

"I was not tossing and turning as you put it. I—" Maura paused and thought for a moment, "You're absolutely correct, Jane. I should attempt to sleep. Interruption during REM is very—"

Jane squeezed Maura tightly and rolled her to Jane's side of the bed. "Ah, stop! Please!" Jane whined as she reached to turn off the light but hesitated. Her hand hovered over the chain. Maura studied the tiny muscle movements in Jane's face as she contemplated. Once Jane had decided, and turned towards Maura, she pretended that she hadn't been staring.

She left the light on.

Maura appreciated the gesture and smiled to herself. She moved closer to Jane and closed her eyes; she could smell Jane's hair.

_Wake up!_

"Wake up? Jane, I thought you wanted me to sleep." Maura untangled herself and sat up. Jane appeared to be feigning sleep.

Just as Maura was about to give Jane a good shake, something caught in her peripheral vision of the opposite wall. She inhaled and turned her head towards the wall, "Jane, that mirror, on the wall, did you put that there?" Maura looked intensely at the mirror and saw something move. Her eyes widened.

Alarmed, and still staring at the mirror, Maura quickly reached out for Jane. When her hands felt nothing but silk, goose feathers, and Egyptian cotton, Maura let out a strangled yelp of surprise. When she looked down, Jane had disappeared.

"No!" Maura screamed. "Bring her back!" She pleaded.

Suddenly Maura was standing and uncontrollably angry. She shook her head, aware that she was once again confused and trembling.

Maura could feel her fingernails puncture the soft flesh of her palms as she squeezed her fists tight. She couldn't control the violent tremors of her body, or the fact that Jane was gone, or how she felt a torrent of emotions all at once. "Why?" she wondered. She honestly wanted to know.

And just like that, she realized she was dreaming.


End file.
